


Of Songs Rejected

by for_t2



Category: Black Mirror (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Feelings, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, Musicians, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: Five songs Jack and Ashley O rejected, and one they didn't





	Of Songs Rejected

**1.**

“Do you want to show me what you’ve got?”

It seemed like a good idea at the time. The endless legal bickering and the apparently unsleeping line of paparazzi just dying for a shot at a rumour made it too easy for her to exhaust herself. Too easy to let herself open up to her local mouse exterminator and hero when she spotted the spare music sheet lying around the floor of the car.

And one thing led to another, and here they were. Ashley O and Jack, together in their own band. Punk, of course, with a bit of metal and a bit of whatever thrown in. Fucking awesome, in any case.

At least, that was the plan. But here they were, with a piece of paper with the first fragments of a song in her hand. And, well, Ashley O might have had her (first) career as some dumb pop star, but she was still a pro. And the writing in front of her was… not so pro.

“Have you ever written music before?”

“Um…” Jack blushed, which was much more adorable than it should be, “I usually just play, you know, whatever.” And then her eyes went a little too wide. “Is it that bad?”

“No, no, no,” Ashley answered, because, really, she’s seen worse from much richer people, and at least this was genuine. Was punk. “It just needs a little bit of work. Here, maybe if we…”

And, well, it turns out that Ashley had all of zero experience consciously writing punk songs as well.

This might be more difficult than she thought.

**2.**

“This is crap.”

“Because your melodramatic whining is so much better.”

“I am trying to work through my trauma—”

“I have trauma too! I still write better than you.”

“I shit better writing than you.”

“How… That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Well neither do your lyrics.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

**3.**

“Maybe we just need a source of inspiration.”

A source of inspiration. Right. Yes. Good idea. When things aren’t clicking it can be good to look outside. Inspiration.

“What are you thinking?”

“Well,” Jack pulls up her laptop, “There’s this new band I wanted to check out.” And she pulls the Bandcamp page, and turns up the sound. And…

There’s a lot of music on the internet.

A lot.

Sometimes inspiration makes you forget to write.

**4.**

“You know, I still know some people in the industry. Like, professional writers. We could always—”

“You want to go back?”

“I’m just saying…”

“No.” And Jack looks pissed. “Fuck no.” And she looks like she’s staring right into Ashley. “They fucking locked you to a bed and fucking… mind-raped you!” And maybe under that anger she looks concerned. “You can’t go back.”

“I just…” And Ashley isn’t sure how to say this. “I’ve never really written music with someone before.” Not like this. Nothing like this. “I’d write a couple things down, but they’d take it, make it different,” she wants to say wrong, “they’d just tell me what to sing. How to dance.” And she wishes she could forget those memories like she’s forgotten so many beginnings to songs that could’ve been something. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. I don’t know.”

And if Jack looked maybe concerned before, now she looks like she’s going to cry. “I guess I’m not really the best person to work with.” They both do. “I guess I’m not sure how… how to feel about writing with someone who might just leave.” Especially when that someone has the megastars and experts saved in her contact list. “I’ve never even fucking played in public.”

Beneath the almost-tears, Ashley kinda snorts.

And then Jack does too.

And then they both do.

**5.**

“I guess this is it.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Neither of them really want to move. But sometimes you have to. Sometimes things just don’t work out.

“You’ve got a lot of potential,” and shit, Ashley hates that phrase. It makes her sound like her manager. “I mean,” and she tries to find something else to say, something better, “you’re good.”

“You too.”

Why is this so difficult? Almost every band breaks up. Sometimes artists just need to go different paths. That’s all. It should be simple.

“We can still catch each other at the show, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Rachel’s looking forward to it.”

“Cool.”

They’re not good.

**+1**

“This can’t be it.”

“No way.”

Here they are again, leaning at the foot of Jack’s bed, a single piece of paper in front of them, a bin full of crumpled papers behind it.

“We did it.”

They did. And, well, it’s pretty shit, but it’s a start, and it's theirs. And that counts for a lot. Counts for everything, really.

“We did it!”

“Woo!”

And they share a high five. A smile.

And Ashley can’t help herself from looking at Jack a little too long.

At her eyes.

At her smile.

“Jack?”

At her lips.

“Yeah?”

They can edit later.


End file.
